Memories
by Wing Pikepaw
Summary: Griffin is just an ordinary kid until a very strange new student appears at his school. Soon, he's swept off on a wild adventure that is getting out of control-can he get home?
1. The New Kid

Chapter 1

Griffin

Eyes heavy, head bowed from the weight of my backpack, I trudged wearily down the hall of Henry James Junior High School. My Walkman was blaring, but I wasn't really listening to it. I was just too tired to focus on more than one thing. My current task was getting down the hallway. In the early hours of the morning, I could only do so much.

"Hi!" said a voice by my left ear. I stopped walking-ending one task-and turned my head-taking up my concentration. My friend Sam stood there, smiling cheerfully. Sam is a never-say-die, morning person. He lives for the mornings, when we walk through the school doors and have free time to roam the halls.

I grunted in what I hoped sounded like a friendly tone and began walking again.

"Did you hear?" Sam said conversationally. "New kid in your homeroom by the name of Will Blakeney."

"Mm," I managed. "Cool."

He raised an eyebrow. "What, no leap of joy? No beaming smile? No confetti, no blaring trumpets, no horde of people screaming their happiness?"

"Not this morning," I moaned. "I feel like I've been hit by a train."

"Don't we all," mumbled a kid beside me: Dan. He squeezed out of the river of people carrying us slowly through the halls and began opening his locker, but was soon lost from sight.

Sam shrugged. "Go splash water on your face in the bathroom. Why are you so tired?"

I gave him a pitying look. "Hmm, let's think. Still dark out, freezing cold outside, raining, everyone looks like it's the end of the world, general feeling of depression-I know, it must be a Monday!"

Sam gave a sigh of exasperation. "Yeah yeah, whatever. Hurry up, will you? We have stuff to do."

I realized that we had arrived at my locker and hit the off button on my Walkman. The music stopped, and I discovered that I didn't even remember what the group had been. Shrugging to myself, I unzipped my backpack and stuffed it inside the locker, taking my heavy binder out with a grunt of effort. I slouched into my homeroom, eyed my teacher (also a morning person) with apprehension, and slid my binder onto the desk. No sign of the new kid.

I joined Sam in the hall. He was looking annoyed that I was taking so long, but said nothing. We both headed towards the stairs to eighth-grade territory where, as my friend Alex joked, things were always bigger.

It was true. Most of the kids had already completed their growth spurts and were huge by average standards, despite the fact that they were only a year older than us. However, I was tall for my age, so I could have passed for an eighth grader in an emergency. Sam, however, is short.

Being short in an eighth grade hallway is not a good feeling. Nobody bothers to even look at you, so you don't need to worry about getting hurt (which is not a big problem at our school, luckily) but you feel so out of place that it makes you feel self-conscious. I stuck close to Sam for moral support.

"Hey! Griffin! Wait!"

I turned around at the sound of my name. I'm probably the only Griffin in the school, so it's no use pretending I don't know I'm being called. Sam, on the other hand, is a common name, so he doesn't have to worry about it. I guess that makes us even.

It was Mr. Banks, the Blue Team leader. We have four different teams in seventh grade-Yellow, Blue, Red, and White. Eighth grade has Aqua, Green, Orange, and Purple. I'm on the Blue team, as is Sam.

"Hi," I offered as he approached. "Were you calling me?" I though, _No duh he was, _I thought, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Yes, I was," he said, beaming at me as if I had just won a gold medal in the Olympics. (Uh-oh, another morning person) Something was up. "We have a new student on the Blue Team. Isn't that exciting?"

"Uh, sure," I said cautiously. I was clueless as to why he was telling me this.

"Well, I have decided to have him follow your schedule!" Mr. Banks exclaimed excitedly. He was acting like I should be screaming "Hallelujah!" and falling down on my knees thanking him. Puh-lease.

"Um, thanks, Mr. Banks," I said, wincing at the involuntary rhyme. Though I won't confess it if a herd of wild horses was trampling me, I like poetry, but some teachers think that rhyming is mocking.

Apparently, Mr. Banks did not. "You're welcome!" he said happily. "I just want to take you down to the guidance office and have you two introduced. Follow me, please."

My faint "I was going to talk with some friends" trailed away, and I followed Mr. Banks unhappily, casting a resigned look back at Sam. He wiped away a fake tear and waved dramatically. I hid a smile and turned a corner after the teacher.

We stopped in front of the office. "Well, I have to run," Mr. Banks told me, like it was a huge disappointment. "Be nice to him, please! Good-bye!"

"Good riddance," I muttered when he was out of earshot. I turned the knob on the office door and eased myself in.

The guidance office is not a place most people want to be. If you pay a visit to your guidance counselor, people bombard you with questions and sympathy all day, and it's generally very embarrassing. Still, I tried to look nonchalant as I leaned on the counter. The secretary looked up.

"Can I help you?" she asked. I don't know her by name, only by sight.

I fidgeted. "Er, yeah, Mr. Banks sent me down to get the new student, um…." I suddenly realized that I had forgotten the kid's name. "Will…Blaney?"

The secretary gave me a bland smile. "Oh, of course! William Blakeney, dear. Mr. Daskin!" she called, raising her voice. "William's guide is here!"

Mr. Daskin, my guidance counselor, opened the door to his office and stepped out. He gave me one of those "counselor smiles," which are full of understanding and sympathy, even when he was trying to express another emotion in his smile. I wondered for a fleeting second if they teach smiling special at guidance counselor school before the new student stepped out.

He was tall and wiry, with tousled blond hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in very baggy jeans (even for my school's standards) and, in contrast, a neat, tucked-in, collared white shirt. He had flat-soled skateboard shoes that looked two sizes too big, but he had tied these neatly as well. The way he carried himself was the oddest thing about him, though. He stood up as tall as he could, keeping his back very straight, which made me think one of his parents was in the military, and his steps were even and purposeful. When he stopped, he planted his feet firmly on the ground, as if he expected to be knocked over at any second and had to be braced.

"Hi," I said warmly. My heart kind of went out to the guy. I mean, with a few emergency changes, he could be looking pretty cool. (Let's just leave it at that about his fashion sense) But he had a very strange look about him. He seemed really confused and…I don't know, kind of lost. I'm not trying to be dramatic-that's what he looked like. Maybe it was because he was new.

"Hello," he replied in a strong voice. Definitely not shy, was this guy. He sounded like a drill sergeant, making me think again about the probability of his parents being in the military. He extended a hand. "I'm William Blakeney."

I stared at the hand. Weird. A kid who shakes hands? I mean, a normal greeting after being introduced is a nod and maybe a smile.

"Griffin Wilkes," I replied weakly, and shook his hand. Man, did he have a grip! I tried not to wince, and returned the pressure as best I could. But he didn't seem like he was trying to be cool by crushing my hand. Maybe he didn't know his own strength.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said courteously. I noticed that he had a strong English accent. Ah. I guess that explained the manners.

"Likewise," I grunted, and looked at Mr. Daskin.

Mr. Daskin looked at us both and flashed us another guidance counselor smile. "Well, I suppose you two should get back to homeroom. Griffin, you know what to do?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Is he going to stay on my schedule for the rest of the year?"

Mr. Daskin nodded. "If you get along. Hurry up now, the first bell is about to ring, I think."

"C'mon," I muttered to William. He followed me out the door.

"So, where is the classroom?" he asked.

"Down the northern hall. We take a left here," I said, and turned.

"Fascinating!" he said, at the sight of the entrance hall. "I've never seen so much glass in one spot before."

I stared at him, mouth slightly open. "Uh…where did you say you were from?"

He hesitated. "Well, I was adopted by a couple from Florida when I was three. I was an orphan in England. Actually…I was in an accident, right before we moved here, and I got a concussion. I don't remember my life in Florida, or England, for that matter, at all. In fact, it seems like I was just born a month ago, when we moved. I only have a month-long memory, really, though when I came out of my coma I could speak and read and write. But I couldn't remember anything."

I was shocked. "Nothing? You don't remember anything else?"

William let out a long breath and dragged me to the deserted area under the stairs. The sounds of the hallway faded out, and all I could hear was William's voice.

"There is one thing that I remember from my life before. I haven't talked to my foster parents about it, even, because it's so strange. But I need to tell someone this, and I think I can trust you, Griffin. Can I?"

"Yes, you can trust me," I said firmly. "I don't lie. Ever."

He smiled. "Good. All right, I have one memory that I really like. That I wish I might discover what it means." He looked around, then continued. "I remember wood beneath my feet, and a sense of…I don't know, like…" He laughed. "Like I'm in charge of something, but I'm still beneath someone else. But I like where I am in my position, if you can understand that. I'm-I'm giving orders, in this memory, and it's windy and raining. The floor is heaving beneath me, but I'm used to that. And then...I remember something-like a long, thick piece of wood-falling towards me."

I stared at him, not in disbelief, but in thought. "It sounds like you were in an earthquake," I said. "It makes sense, with the floor moving beneath you, and something falling."

William frowned. "I don't think so. I remember that I was really used to the floor moving. I _think_ I may have been in a storm, with all the rain and wind."

Suddenly, the first bell rang, signaling students to get back to their homerooms. William jumped and looked around.

"It's okay," I assured him. "It's just the bell. It rings when classes are over, or when it's time for school to start. We better get back to class."

As we exited the stairwell, I added, "I won't tell anyone about what you told me, okay? But thank you for telling me."

He nodded, and we started towards homeroom.


	2. Rock Climbing

Chapter 2

William

Later that day, in gym, Griffin grinned at the sight of the harnesses and helmets on the floor. He indicated these to me. "We're doing the rock wall today. I love rock climbing!"

"Rock climbing?" I echoed. "What's that?"

A girl in our class, Anna, shot Griffin a sympathetic look that she thought I couldn't see. Griffin shrugged at her and explained quietly to me the concept of climbing up the wall with ropes and harnesses. I was still a bit confused, but it sounded very exciting.

"That sounds interesting!" I said. Griffin pointed to the rock wall, and my eyes widened. "You mean we get to climb that?"

"Sadly, yes," said Anna gloomily. "I hate climbing."

Griffin gave her a look of mock horror and clapped a hand to his heart. "You can't be serious? I am scarred for life by your unbelieving ways!"

Griffin would make a good actor. He seems so dramatic at times, but he previously assured me that it was all for a joke. I don't understand how a joke could go on for so long with so many people knowing about it, but I gathered early on that asking questions would make me look ignorant.

"Do I get to climb?" I asked, hoping it wasn't a bad question.

It didn't seem to be, because Anna answered without a trace of sarcasm. "I guess so, if Ms. Phillips says it's okay. Have you ever climbed before?"

"No," I admitted.

Anna shrugged. "That's okay. No one but Griffin has, as he's always telling us."

Griffin sputtered with outrage. "I'll have you know, Anna, that I hold the record of one minute up the wall! I have the right to brag!"

Anna shoved him, and Griffin staggered, grinning. I laughed.

Ms. Phillips, the gym teacher, introduced herself to me and shook my hand. "Okay William, the kids have already gotten themselves up the wall twice, so you can go first, if you want to climb," she boomed. She has a very loud, annoying voice, but according to Griffin, she's fair.

"Yes, I would," I said, trying to control my excitement.

"Okay then. Griffin, help William get a harness on and check that carabineer and the foreline," she instructed.

Griffin helped me get on my harness. He was obviously a climbing expert, by the way he tightened my harness with professional ease and that Ms. Phillips often asked him to help her with the rock-climbing equipment. When I was ready, I walked over to Ms. Phillips, my gait awkward from the tight harness.

She clipped me to the line with the carabineer that Griffin had previously checked and patted me on the shoulder. "Since this is your first time, tell me if you want to come down," she told me. "It's okay if you have to: all of the class beside Griffin, Sara, Chris, and John Ryan came down halfway on their first climb."

I nodded a bit nervously. This was beginning to sound complicated. Six of my classmates grasped the rope that wound into the pulley at the top of the wall and attached to my waist. The other end was attached to Ms. Phillips' harness, but she was only the anchor: it was the six people holding the rope that would keep my rope taut so I wouldn't fall. I read off the commands that were printed in neat, black capitals on a sheet of paper taped to the wall, and the belay team bellowed back their answers.

"Belay team ready?"

"READY!"

"Ready to climb!"

"CLIMB AWAY!"

I mounted the ladder that led to the beginning of the wall and climbed, one rung after the next. I grabbed the big white beam at the top in a bear hug and carefully stepped out onto the small platform. Above me was the wall, artificial rocks sticking out. I thought out my route quickly. It seemed to me that the easiest way up was to stick to the right until I got about three fourths of the way up. Then, I would need to swing myself out and grab the swinging ring attached to the short chain and pull myself up to the top rock.

Carefully, I mounted the wall, curling my toes in my shoes instinctively to get a better grip. I looked up, saw a large rock to my right, and grabbed it. I stepped up to the next rock and stretched out my left foot to gain purchase.

Griffin was yelling instructions, along with about three other boys in the class. I ignored them. Suddenly, a vision flashed before my eyes: _Endless miles of water blended with the blue of the sky. My fingers gripped the tarred rope, and I pushed myself up easily. Like a monkey, I climbed higher and higher, reaching the mizzen topgallant arm-_

and suddenly, I was back on the wall, blinking. The calls of the boys echoed through the gym, bouncing towards me.

"What just happened?" I whispered, trembling with what I knew was not the "climber's fatigue" Griffin had told me about. Why was I seeing visions of a place I had never been to?

_You don't know if you've never been there,_ a small voice inside my head nagged._ You don't remember anything._

But I had remembered something-the mizzen topgallant arm. A name. A few minutes ago, that name would have meant nothing to me, but I now remembered it clearly.

_Rough wood under my fingers, swaying as I reached up to grasp the yardarm_-

"Stop it," I told myself firmly. "Stop it right now. You don't have time to work it out right now. You have to concentrate."

"William? William!" Ms. Phillips' voice cut through my thoughts. "Are you okay? Do you need to come down?"

"N-no, I was just thinking," I called back. "Sorry."

Remembering my easy climb to the topgallant arm, I filled myself with that feeling of casual confidence. I began climbing as if I had been born to it, climbing like I had been only a few moments ago in the rigging.

Rigging! Another name I had remembered. I knew the name, but I didn't know what it meant. Growling with frustration and effort, I leapt up the wall, grabbed the hanging ring, and grasped the top rock! I reached up and squeaked the plastic lion's head several times. Cheers from below filled the room.

"Forty-five seconds on the dot!" called Ben. "That's a new record!"

I whipped my head around to look at him, amazed. I had broken Griffin's record! I strained my neck to see how he was taking it, but his face was hidden. He was the only person in the gym not looking up.

Once I had been lowered to the ground, I walked over to Griffin. "Did you see me?" I asked excitedly. "I guess rock climbing is my thing too!"

"Yeah," he said flatly, and began loosening my harness. "Great job."

I fell silent. I had been going to tell him about the vision I had had up on the wall, and ask if he knew what a mizzen topgallant arm and rigging was, but he didn't seem in the mood for conversation.

Once I was free of the harness, Anna walked over to me and slung an arm about my shoulders. "Ignore Griffin," she said lowly. "He's just jealous that you're a better climber than he is. He's a nice guy, but he's really competitive. I guess it comes of having an older brother and sister who're both track stars. Nice job, by the way."

"Thank you," I replied, distracted. So that's why Griffin was acting that way.

"We have time for one more climber!" Ms. Phillips announced. "Who wants to go?"

Griffin's hand shot up so fast that it looked like it had been rocket-propelled. Ms. Phillips called on him, and he was soon clipped to the carabineer, a fanatic light in his eyes.

At the signal, he was off like a shot up the ladder. He leapt onto the wall at top speed, snarling audibly with effort. His feet searched for footholds, and his questing fingers found handholds in cracks in the wall itself, not on the rocks. Soon, he was up on the wall and squeaking the lion's head.

"Thirty seconds!" called Ben over the roars of approval. "Griffin keeps his record!"

Griffin was lowered to the ground. His face was sweaty, but his eyes gleamed with triumph. As he was taking off his harness, he even gave me a friendly clap on the shoulder and a sincere "Good job, Will!"

I knew that I had a friend back for good, but something in the back of my mind told me that I could have beaten him. I had a good many things to think about, so I kept silent as the bell rang and I followed Griffin to the next class.

* * *

_A/N-Okay, basic summary-Will remembers SOME stuff-yes, sadly enough, he has no idea what a topgallant arm is. If he remembers, all the things he knows will blow his mind..._

_So, thanks for the reviews. I'm glad I got some positive feedback! ((hugs reviewers)) I'd like some more, if you're feeling nice. This is kinda an interesting chapter, if you like random flashbacks and rockclimbing. Tell me if I'm doing a good job, this is difficult for me to write. I have a few ideas and a new chapter, so stay patient and give me some words of wisdom! Have a nice vacation!_

_**et-spiritus-sancti-**((blinks in surprise)) You think so? I really wasn't expecting such a great compliment! Thank you! I feel extremely special indeed. I thought that the "boy on the _Surprise_" twist was new, and I'm very glad you liked it. I wonder what the male equivilent of a Mary-Sue is, a Billy Bob? Prolly. Hopefully this isn't one, as Griffin is a bit...interesting. Okay, this is going to sound a bit dumb, but what is the actual definition of a Mary Sue? I get the basic meaning, but...Cheers anyway, thanks a lot for my favorite review yet! You get a prize!_

_**Araniel-**Sam __is an actual person, so that's probably why he really relates to someone. In this case, you. And the real Sam usually does add the punch in the arm too, I just decided to make him a little more…nice for the story. He's getting a bit dull, now. Maybe I will add the punch in the arm-ish stuff! Sorry about the tense confusion. I wrote the whole chapter after going skiing, so my brain was most likely frozen at the time! Then again, it always is…heheh. Glad you like the idea, hope you liked this chapter! _

_**Lamb Chop-**If I don't run out of ideas, I'm sure it will come together pretty well. Thanks for the review! (Er, if you have any ideas, I'll hear 'em)_

_I really NEED reviews right about now as my other stories are being sadly neglected! Please, don't allow me to shrivel up and die...((looks hopefully at stoic faces and wails)) Or I'll start threatening my characters, and that's pushing it!_


	3. Research

Chapter 3

Griffin

A few weeks passed, and William finally got used to school. I had reinstated him in the fashion ladder by having him turn up his collar and tie his shoes messily, so they looked cooler, and he was beginning to know a lot of people in my classes by name. Mostly, he hung out with me and Sam on weekends and after school.

It was Friday afternoon, and I was going over to William's house for dinner. While we were waiting for his foster dad to pick us up, he eyed my violin, which I was swinging casually in my right hand.

"Is that a violin?" he asked. "I didn't know you played it."

"Yeah, I do," I said, surprised that he hadn't noticed. "And Sam plays cello."

"Like the captain and the doctor…" William said softly. He narrowed his eyes like he was trying to remember something.

"Who?" I asked.

William looked up and frowned thoughtfully. "I really don't know. That just sort of came out." He glanced around and stepped closer to me. "Griffin, I have to tell you something important."

I leaned against the warm brick wall. "Shoot."

"Shoot what?"

I sighed. "It's just an expression. It means go ahead, tell me."

He shuffled his too-big sneakers. "Do you remember the first day I was here, when we did the rock wall?"

I nodded. Mixed feelings of anger at his success and happiness at mine resurfaced from that day.

"You know when I stopped, when I was about halfway up?" William asked in almost a whisper.

I thought hard, retracing his climb in my head. "Yeah, I do. What was up with that?"

"I had…you're going to think I'm crazy, but I had a vision type-thing," he said, embarrassed. "It was kind of like that memory that I told you about, remember? The first day I was here?"

Now I was interested. "Tell me about it."

"I was climbing…that's what inspired me to go so fast. I was climbing something that I remember being called 'rigging' to what was called the 'mizzen topgallant arm,' and everything was swaying."

I perked up. One of the few things I like as much as rock climbing is old fashioned warships, particularly British man-o-wars. "Sounds like you were aboard a sailing ship, maybe a three-master if you had a mizzen mast."

William frowned again. "Three-master? But I thought most sailing ships had one mast."

I was in full flow. "Yes, modern ones do. Old-fashioned ones, especially battleships, had three or more masts. The rigging is the ropes that lead up the masts so the crew can set the sails. Maybe you were in a reenactment or something."

But that didn't make sense! Why would a kid my age be in a reenactment? And they didn't allow tourists to go into the rigging either, because of liability. I was stumped.

My friend sat down, head in hands. "Let me think for a second."

I waited. I was as anxious as he was to unravel this mystery, but I guess I had to be patient. When William looked up again, his face was troubled.

"I can remember…bits. Little images, like cut up photographs all plastered together and overlapping."

"Tell me what you see, and maybe I can help."

William took a deep breath and began. "A blue coat, maybe like a uniform. The flash of the sun on the barrel of-well, perhaps some sort of gun, if it had a barrel. Then, a face, as well. Several faces, kind of blended together. A big, black dog, belonging to…"

"Think," I urged him. "Can you think of the name?"

His face was shining with sweat from the effort of thinking. "Babbington!" he burst out. "His name was William Babbington. Not the dog, the owner. He was…I don't know. He had a rank, but I don't know it."

"Well, you know that much," I encouraged him. "Maybe you'll figure it out soon."

William shrugged and stood back up. "It's just so strange. I really wish I could remember."

I didn't know what to say to that. I really felt bad for him; imagine not knowing your past! But I was determined to help him in any way I could.

Suddenly, a big red pick-up truck pulled up to the curb. A smiling man poked his head out of the window.

"Hey, buddy!" he greeted William. "Ready to go?"

William forced a smile and replied, "Sure, Dad. This is Griffin, by the way."

"Hello, Griffin!" said the man, beaming. "I'm Walker, William's dad." I returned the smile, mentally sighing. Looked like another morning person to me. Ah well-I was too used to Sam to care.

We got in the car and drove a short way down the road. We pulled up in front of a pretty yellow house with a neatly tended garden in front, stopped the car, and walked in the front door to a spacious, beautifully designed hall.

"Rachel! We're home!" called Walker. A short, plump woman came bustling around the corner, smiling as much as her husband. "Hello William!" she said kindly, greeting her foster son. "And you must be Griffin," she said to me. "William's told us so much about you! I'm glad to finally meet you."

I smiled-it was hard not to, surrounded by the King and Queen of Extreme Happiness. I mean, they were really nice, but it was weird seeing them smile so much. I wondered why William wasn't that way. Come to think of it, I'm glad he wasn't.

"Why don't you guys go upstairs and play a few video games or something?" suggested Walker. "Rachel and I might be a while making dinner. We're making homemade pizza."

"Of course," William said. "They're always like that," he muttered when we got to the top of the stairs. "Always so cheery and all. It's odd."

I chuckled. William led me to a big, sunny room overlooking the wide expanse of backyard, and we sat down on two puffy beanbags in front of the TV.

"So," I said as I made myself comfortable, "what should we do about…um…what you saw?"

William looked thoughtful. "Why don't we do some research about ships and such? That might be helpful."

He crossed the room to a small desk and began booting up a computer. I dragged a chair sitting in the corner over so I could look on. Once the computer was ready, I typed in "diagram of a three-masted ship" on Google, and we soon were gazing at a picture of a beautiful man-o-war. I sighed with happiness and scrolled down the page to read the caption. It read:

_This basic drawing of an 1800s style British man-o-war does not do justice to the real thing. Unfortunately, the days of the tall ships are over, so researchers must be content with what opportunities modern technology has given them. The only known recreation of such a ship in the New England area is the "HMS _Rose_," a life-size model of an actual ship. The _Rose _is currently anchored in Mystic Seaport, Connecticut, where it is part of an educational exhibition of old-fashioned ships._

Click here to see more information on British warships.

Click here to find out more about the HMS _Rose._

Click here to visit the Mystic Seaport homepage.

I stared at the screen in excitement. "William, do you know what this means? The _Rose_ is just an hour's drive away! We could go see it! That might bring some memories back, don't you think?"

William read and reread the caption over and over, as if hardly daring to believe it. "This is great!" he burst out. "Are you free tomorrow?"

"Um…" I thought for a second. "Yeah, I think so. My sister's track meet is early in the morning, but it ends at like, ten, so I'm free the rest of the day."

"I'll ask my parents," William said instantly. He ran downstairs, and I could hear him talking to his foster parents.

"May Griffin and I go to Mystic Seaport tomorrow?"

Complete silence. Then-

"Why do you want to go, son?"

"It sounds like fun. I hear they have a new exhibit starting."

"Well…" It was William's mom this time. "We're free all day tomorrow, I think." She didn't sound so happy about it.

"Great," said William at once. "So, we can go?"

"No." This firm voice belonged to Walker. "It's a Saturday tomorrow-there'll be too many people. You don't want it too crowded, do you? You know the doctors don't want you in crowded areas for another month or so. And I'm at work tomorrow, and your mother is going to California for a week, remember? No one will be able to drive you."

I hurried downstairs to stand at William's side. "My brother can drive us. He's a very good driver-got his license last year. He was voted Safest Driver in his grade. And it won't be very crowded. The exhibit has been going on for a long time now, so it won't be a big rush of people."

Walker and Rachel exchanged looks. Rachel spoke. "Well, okay, but you have to promise to stay close to Griffin's brother, and do what he says. Is it all right with your parents, Griffin?"

I nodded, grinning. "Yeah, I told them that I'd be hanging out with friends tomorrow, and my brother loves any excuse to drive."

I called my mom after dinner just to make sure. She was fine with the idea, and my brother was ecstatic. I was happy too, but for a different reason-tomorrow, more of William's past might be revealed.

* * *

_I'm BACK! Huzzah for the story, everyone, drinks all around! Well...yeah...so I've been more than slightly inactive, so I decided to get up and going with my other stories...yes, that's right, the others too..._

_ **Miss Flossy-**Thanks for reviewin', m'dear, I know you don't really care for younger stories, so it was indeed a bold move to review at all! hands Flossy a chocolate bar Yeah, first person is more than slightly difficult, but I think it shall remain this way...I'm workin' on it, don't worry. Gosh, was it so long ago that we were still saying ciao...? That's like from April! is aghast Even before! Well, do keep an eye on the story, I'm writing a "Mowett moment" into later chapters...And keep an eye on The Unseen Threat, there's some work happening over there if ya know what I mean. winks furiously  
_

_**et-spiritus-sancti-**Yes! I updated! And now I'm updating again nearly a year later! Thanks a lot for the review, I appreciate it. Mary-Sue...yeah, that's what I thought it was, still, Griffin already has a flaw, and you'll soon see he has a heck of a lot more...but not in a bad way! Well, this chapter did not really do much in the way of the plot, it's chapter four you're wanting. Coming up soon!_

_ **avalon88-**Thank you! I hope you'll like the other chapters too! Thanks for your time, it always makes me smile when someone writes me a positive review..._

_ So, lads and lassies, off we go again, get ready for a mass story explosion! (But don't try to anticipate when that will happen!)_


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